


And who are you, the proud lord said...

by AryaWinter



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen, Jon and Dany implied, R Plus L Equals J, arya is a badass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 07:35:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17935538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AryaWinter/pseuds/AryaWinter
Summary: Cersei sits with her demons and finds out some news.





	And who are you, the proud lord said...

_What harm could Lyanna Stark’s ghost do?_ She snorted. _Apparently everything._

 

A sharp northern breeze passed through her open window. Entombed beneath blankets and furs she read the scroll again…

 

_To the High Lords and Ladies of Westeros,_

 

_The so-called Queen Cersei Lannister hides in the Red Keep while Queen Daenerys and King Aegon, son of Rhaegar, Crown Prince of the Seven Kingdoms and Lyanna…_

 

She had to stop, clutching her goblet ever closer. This had to be Tyrion’s scheme. Destabilize the realm with nonsense and myths all to place a bastard puppet on the Iron Throne. That it was this particular bastard was all the more comical. _And Aegon! Of all the names! I thought you were more clever Tyrion._ Cersei had at first considered it entirely nonsensical. To think, a prince just lurking about the seven kingdoms. It was the stuff of fairy tales and legends. Then again, so much had been happening that defied logic.

 

_...to take all you hold dear._

 

Another shiver. Another sip. She looked around for someone to draw the curtains but found no one. In the past this might have enraged her. The silence, suffocating for others, was a balm to Cersei’s soul now. Day in and day out someone had something to say to her. The people were hungry, the people were cold, the people were angry. All these complaints! Had she not given them everything? Her youth? Her life?

 

_My babes._

 

Not for the first time she reminisced on simpler times. When the fields were emerald instead of barren and the air was sweet and warm. It would still be summer if Rhaegar lived, she would have given him golden haired, violet eyed dragons. Not some half wolf spawn that looked nothing like him. She caressed her swollen middle.

 

_The past is past. The future is here. My last little lion. What could a threat from a dragon do to my perfect cub._

 

Qyburn had warned that the babe may not be, what were his words, viable. That it may be a false pregnancy but Cersei scoffed at this then and as she did now in her silent ruminations. She’d never had issues with babes before why would she have one now. Her age? Was not this pregnancy proof that she was still a woman.

 

Time had cursed her with many things but infertility was not one of them. Infertility was for lesser women. Like that dragon queen. The birds had whispered that she had lost her first babe and had never been pregnant again. Some witch, they said, had cursed her womb so that the dragons would be her only children. Cersei knew some things about curses of course. But then again

 

_And three for you…._

 

But here was her fourth. Her fourth child. Clearly that witch was wrong. From beneath her blankets another breeze crept in, invading her warmth. She took a deep sip from her goblet only to find it was empty.

 

_Strange, it had been full but moments ago._

 

Wine seemed to disappear as quickly as the court did these days. One would think there would be more wine now that Robert was gone but alas, no. She had been drinking watered wine, for the babe, but found it did nothing for her. She had confirmed with Qyburn and he had prescribed her wine

 

_For the dreams._

 

She had found it harder and harder to sleep. She would lie in bed with, some Lannister cousin, but the world would close in. She would hear ringing and find that she couldn’t breathe, that it would get harder and harder to catch a breath at all and then their faces oh gods their faces. Joffrey’s purpled face forever frozen in indigo pain, Myrcella with her eyes closed as if she was asleep and then Tommen, her precious Tommen. The sadness in his eyes spoke of the injustices done against him. Margaery had hooked her talons in him. As poisoned by her ambitions as Myrcella and Joffrey were by the enemies that were everywhere. Joffrey, Myrcella, Tommen, Joffrey, Myrcella, Tommen over and over again as she gasped for breath.

 

She waved those faces away. Her face was dry like her cup for she decided that tears were for weak women. She was not a woman but more. A queen.

 

She stumbled from her blankets, the weight of them sloughing off her. As she felt her way to the wine she found the flagon empty. It rang hollow and empty as she called for the maid girl whatever her name was.

 

She turned and felt off center. The room swirled somewhat.

 

_Ah yes, the nausea from pregnancy. What a nuisance._

 

She would give in to it because, well, it meant the babe was strong. Finding herself at the window she heard on the winds catches of the people below. The words “Long” and “live” and something hard to parse. As she leaned closer she wobbled and caught herself quickly.

 

_No, no I will not let a window be my downfall. All because I was so vain I wanted to hear the people sing my name. My advisors all complain but listen to them sing._

 

The bells began to toll, quickly, fervently. With confusion Cersei called for someone anyone and realized that her rooms were entirely too quiet. She was about to call the guards-

 

Then with the breeze, the servant girl walked in.

 

“My lady”

 

“Where have you been, girl”

 

“I was ill, my lady”

 

“Your. Grace.”

 

“Well I hardly think you need to bow to me, my lady, I am but a servant girl”

 

“No, you impudent child, wherever did Qyburn find you. You should address me as Your Grace.”

 

“Of course….Your Grace.”

 

“I should have you whipped and starved, child, for making me tell you how to do your job.”

 

It had not always been like this, she had had true handmaidens who knew what to do. But the fickle lords, worried after the tragic accident at the Sept and the threat of Dragons had all absconded with their precious daughters.

 

_Fools, all of them. Only the Red Keep can offer true protection._

 

The bells continued to chime. _Why? Likely the people. Maybe some outburst._

 

The maid busied herself with cleaning up the room and refilling the flagon of wine calmly, so Cersei knew it was nothing but the people in the streets.

 

“Girl, could you please close the window.”

 

“Of course m’l...Your Grace. Is it the people bothering you?”

 

“Oh Gods no, I do love to hear the people sing. It is the breeze.”

 

“Aye, what comes from the north can be very hard.”  


“Indeed.”

 

Cersei buried herself deeper into her seat again, hoping that that would alert the girl that she need not be here any longer. This child was beneath her time and attention.

 

“My..Your Grace, I had thought it would be the people who bothered you. As they chant for the Dragon King and Queen.”

 

Cersei sprang to her feet as quickly as her middle allowed her. She grabbed the girl spitting with venom.

 

“What do they say about the Dragon Queen, I hear long live our Queen, that is me”

 

“Your pardon, your grace, but they do say long live the queen. They say long live the queen, and the king, and the Targaryens. They say Mhysa and White Wolf, The call for the breaker of chains and those who ended the long night. They do not call for you.”

 

Cersei slapped the child who laughed. “This is treason. You have no power here. Guards!”

 

But no guards came. Cersei began to crack, the ringing of the bells reminding her of the ringing in her ears. The faces of Joffrey, Myrcella, Tommen flashing through her mind with every chime of the bell.

 

“Ah you see, power is power, my lady. You have none here.”

 

“Who are you?” _Joffrey, Myrcella, Tommen_.

 

“No one. You could not even remember my name even if you tried, though I lay at your feet near death yesterday. Thank the one true God that I was given the blessing.”

 

“Who are you?”

 

 _Joffrey, Myrcella, Tommen_.

 

“No one. Like you.”

 

 _Joffrey, Myrcella, Tommen_.

 

“Please, please Don’t hurt my babe please! My child!”

 

 _Joffrey, Myrcella, Tommen_.

 

“There is no child.”

 

The maid grabbed her roughly, subdued her. Walked her to the mirror.

 

“Look, truly look”

 

At first Cersei saw herself, pregnant and glowing but then..

 

She went to look away but roughly the maid turned her face to the mirror.  “Look.”

 

She saw it. She saw the damage that time had done. Her face was not flushed with a glow but red and blotchy from wine, bulbous and hot to the touch. _Like Robert._ She was bloated and sagging and the dress was entirely too tight. She was not herself but Maggy the Frog old and croaking. How could anyone expect her to carry a child? The last several months came into focus as she did in the mirror. The mornings with headaches and sickness were not because of the babe, were not because of new life. She sobbed and looked into the face of the maid. But the maid was not the maid, but Lyanna Stark back from the dead, a Valyrian dagger that scratched at the edge of her memory in her hand.

 

“Leave one wolf alive, and the sheep are never safe.”

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> As part of me exploring my voice another scene. My goal was to create a mood and tone. Were you sad for Cersei? annoyed? The ending was a surprise? Not at all? Let me know!


End file.
